If she thought about it, closing her eyes, but not squeezing so as to muss up her makeup, it was acting. There was a director, sound guy and a script. Granted, it was two pages scribbled on yellow legal pad, but still. They called, saying they were ready for her. The heat was up, so that was good. She opened her eyes, walked a few steps and dropped the robe, careful not to get the fuck-me pumps caught in the terrycloth.